Apocalypse: Fairy System by Macronomicon (fox in socks read aloud txt) 📕

Was Smartass’s growth caused by Myst, or Body? Jeb supposed he’d have to enter a Deal that was solely monetary in nature and see if that sparked any growth.

Judge Elkor’s stupid had been quite profitable, but the rewards had been primarily non-tangible in nature. Jeb was also still obligated to find and kill the kidnappers through his Deal with Vresh, which was still in effect.

Jeb liked to think of his Impact as a snowball. The bigger it was, the more it could pick up off the ground, leading to a higher profit from Deals. He’d received nearly twice the amount of Attribute points from this most recent deal.

I’m sure eventually it will reach some kind of law of diminishing returns, where the ‘snowball’ can’t hold itself together, but for right now, we’re on the rapid-expansion side of the bell curve.

Jeb’s Myst was already beyond the point where he should be able to fly again, which was nice. He just needed to take the time to draw in and metabolize Myst, expand his Core to match his new limits. That was going to take a while.

Jeb noticed Eddie heading out the bottom of the building, and he refocused on business. Jeb plucked the ring out of the air and slipped it on, resolving to finish the rest of his self check-up later.

You can’t have a lookout be busy gazing at their own navel.

Jeb settled down cross-legged and pulled out the Peeping Tom wand. What was the actual name, anyway? Jeb’s enhanced Nerve jumped in with the answer.

Wand of Translocated Vision

Right, that’s what it was. The wand itself was stained hardwood with a creepy eyeball carving on the side of it. Jeb held the wand vertical and closed his eyes.

For someone who grew up on video games, from ye olde Mario, up to and including the occasional VR at a wealthier friend’s house, Jeb felt he had a pretty decent idea of what to expect.

He allowed the wand’s siphon to connect to his Myst—similar to the Beautiful Revenge. The wand began draining a trickle of Myst, capturing a portion of the burning corona for itself.

Jeb’s stomach lurched when his point of view skipped forward about six inches, the field of view a full three hundred and sixty degrees in every direction.

Jeb’s feeble brain almost couldn’t keep up with the torrent of visual information. The human brain had no frame of reference for true three hundred and sixty vision.

I was wrong, Jeb thought, frowning as he fought back the nausea, staring at his own face, along with the sky, the ground, the building across from him, the guy sneaking up behind him...

Jeb had about a quarter second to study the strangely familiar keegan before the guy landed silently on the roof behind Jeb, blackened sword unsheathed.

Shitfuck!

Jeb ducked his head and yanked himself forward, causing the keegan’s first strike to miss Jeb’s face by a literal hair.

Jeb’s vision snapped back into his own eye sockets as he pinched off the flow of Myst, reaching his good hand down to his belt as he slid across the roof.

The assassin’s swift follow-up punctured a hole in the floor between Jeb’s legs.

Jeb fumbled for the defensive wand while reaching out toward the assassin with his Myst, aiming to knock the man up.

Sure, he had superhuman speed, but it didn’t matter how fast you were when you couldn’t get purchase on the ground.

Rule #1 when fighting a speedster: Get them off the ground.

The assassin threw himself to the side, evading Jeb’s thread of Myst. He used the edge of his palm to redirect his entire mass, pushing off the stucco surface in midair, leaving a cracked pattern in the wall behind him as he bounced toward Jeb like a superball.

Jeb didn’t have time to do anything more than jerk the wand in front of him and shove a panicked blast of Myst into it.

A wall of faintly mother-of-pearl gunk poured out in front of Jeb, hardening with the assassin halfway through it, catching the man midair.

“Hah!” Jeb said, scrambling backward. “Whaddya think about—crap.”

The nacre-like material was tough, and it only gave a little bit at a time, but it gave, releasing a soft shriek of tortured fiber as the assassin tugged himself free.

Goddamn bargain-bin defensive wand, Jeb thought, pushing himself up. Still, it bought him time.

Jeb created a spike of force and aimed for his enemy’s midsection, driving the assassin out the other side of the nacre wall. The assassin’s hidden armor dispersed most of the force, and rather than being skewered, the keegan rolled away, eyes narrowed with pain.

Jeb reached out a string of Myst to pick the guy up off the ground, but he dodged it. Again.

Something’s telling me this guy can see my Myst, Jeb thought. Or maybe he just had a really good sense for fighting.

The assassin grabbed the side of the wall and tore a brick off, throwing it at Jeb.

The brick hissed through the air, and Jeb created another bubble of nacre to catch it and buy himself a little extra time to figure out his next move.

The brick was caught, stretching the nacre and turning it opaque. The assassin followed the brick with a sword swing, shattering the strained bubble and intruding on Jeb’s personal space in a fraction of a second.

This guy doesn’t look like a talker, but it couldn’t hurt, Jeb thought as he caught the keegan’s wrist with his Myst, the assassin’s other hand with both of Jeb’s arms.

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me who you’re working for? Is it Garland?” Jeb asked. “He has a bad habit of welching on his debts, you know.”

“I know,” the keegan said, leaning forward until he was an inch away from Jeb’s face. “I